Posts from August 2013

August 16, 2013

Every few seasons or so, Broadway seems to attract a WTF musical. As in, "WTF is this doing on Broadway?" The kind of show that, even if it was any good, just didn't seem to have enough of an audience to sustain a commercial run. You know, Scandalous. Or my beloved A Catered Affair. One sucked, the other didn't, but where was the audience for either?

Now we have Soul Doctor, the latest in the ignominious line of WTF musicals, although the show's quality is a lot closer to that of Scandalous than that of A Catered Affair. In fact, Soul Doctor is pretty atrocious. But even if the show were a whole lot better than it is, it's hard to imagine there would be many people outside of the Jewish community, plus maybe fans of offbeat musical theater, who would have any interest in seeing a musical about Rabbi Shlomo Carlebach, a minor figure in pop music from the 1960s to his death in 1994. The show's tag line sorta says it all: "Journey of a Rockstar [sic] Rabbi." Is that supposed to attract rock fans? Rebellious Jews? Soul Doctor really feels like a show without a country.

"What about Fiddler on the Roof?," you might ask. Well, Fiddler was an extraordinarily well-crafted musical that transcended its subject matter and painted a compelling portrait that nearly anyone could identify with. Heck, I performed in Fiddler at my Catholic high school in the early '80s. Whereas Soul Doctor is a show only a Jewish mother could love, and an extremely forgiving one at that.

Soul Doctor features book and direction by Daniel Wise, with lyrics by David Schechter, plus music and additional lyrics by Carlebach himself, drawn from his considerable song catalog. For a show that purports to be about the power of Carlebach's music and message, there's very little that's transportive or inspiring about Soul Doctor. The overall tone of the production is dour and dreary, albeit with occasional moments of joy.

The book to Soul Doctor is rather diffuse, making the same mistake as Chaplin, another WTF musical from last season, in trying to tell too much of the story of a man's life and not sufficiently developing the events and people along the way. For instance, when young Shlomo is in still in Vienna, before his family is driven away by the Nazis, he encounters this person/life spirit/mythical being named Moishe, who exhorts young Shlomo to heal the world with song. Moishe is then summarily shot dead by a Nazi soldier. It's not clear who this Moishe is, nor why his words have such a lasting impact on Shlomo. And that's pretty much how the book proceeds, with random characters who enter the story, serve their purpose, then disappear.

Another of these characters comes in the form of a young boy who sings one of Carlebach's first songs in the synagogue of Carelbach's rabbi father. One of Carlebach's life goals, the show tells us, was to bring the message of God to the people through music that was more appealing to a younger congregation. Later in the show, Carlebach, played by the talented and sympathetic Eric Anderson, meets up with this now-older young man at a concert. The young man tells Carlebach: "You encouraged me to open people's hearts. So I became a cardiac surgeon." All that for a rimshot-worthy attempt at hoary humor, with which Soul Doctor is decidedly replete.

Most of the intended drama of Soul Doctor comes from Carlebach breaking free of the strictures of his orthodox faith, but the show focuses on these family conflicts at the expense of its larger goal: to celebrate the power of Carlebach's work. Indeed the show only works sporadically, mostly when it explores the unlikely friendship that Carlebach had with Nina Simone, played here with smoky intensity by Amber Iman. When Simone/Iman enters the scene, Soul Doctor suddenly becomes interesting, with a subtle dynamic of underlying attraction and approach/avoidance. This nuance disappears again when Simone leaves the story, and returns when she does, which makes me think that it's the actress and not Wise's writing that's responsible for the show's intermittent spark.

Once Soul Doctor actually gets to Carlebach's performances and the power of his songs, the show again catches momentary fire, but the spark comes too late, and there's not enough to keep the fire burning. The second act completely falls apart in a series of clumsy blackout scenes, ill-conceived (and laughable) dance sequences, and a mad dash to the finish. It feels as though the show was drastically cut at the last minute and author/director Wise failed to see that the pieces weren't quite fitting together. The effort appears to be in vain. Soul Doctor shows every sign of becoming a late-summer casualty.

August 13, 2013

One thing I've noticed lately is that my tolerance for flaws in a musical depends on the overall feeling that I'm developing as I'm watching a performance. When a musical, overall, is well-crafted, I'm willing to make allowances for flaws here and there. But when a show isn't taking me along for the ride, I'm more likely to wince at things like slant rhyme, insufficiently developed characters, poor scansion, forced comedy, and the like.

So, for instance, the same flaws that I found forgivable in Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson I found increasingly irksome in Love's Labour's Lost, the new musical by the same creative team: composer/lyricist Michael Friedman and librettist/director Alex Timbers. Whereas Bloody Bloody reflected a unity of vision, and a ripe sense of college-boy snark, Love's Labour's Lost, while occasionally diverting, overall feels laboured and just a bit lost.

Of course, Love's Labour's Lost is based on the original Shakespeare play of the same name. The plot is essentially this: The King of Navarre and three college friends make an oath to devote the next three years of their lives to their studies. Enter a local princess and her three ladies in attendance to cock the whole thing up. There's also a subplot involving a random Spaniard, Don Armado, and his amorous attentions towards the local bar wench, and a bunch of subsidiary characters who come in and out to keep the action moving. Or not, as the case is with Timbers' adaptation. There's too much going on, and not enough development of any one particular element.

Timbers' adaptation includes almost all of the original Shakespeare characters, which creates significant problems in character development. To make room for songs, Timbers would have been wise to excise a subplot or two. Indeed, the only character who felt even close to fully fledged was Lord Berowne, played here by the always engaging Colin Donnell. It's really a shame, because the cast of Love's Labour's Lost represents a who's who of current and future Broadway stars, including Daniel Breaker as the King, and Lucas Near-Verbrugge and Bryce Pinkham as his other two Lords. In the female cast we have Rebecca Naomi Jones and Patti Murin, among many other fine performers. It's a shame to see all this talent underused in thinly developed roles. Even worse, we also have the wonderfully gifted Rachel Dratch and Jeff Hiller somewhat wasted here as two supposedly comic academics.

As for the score, I must confess that I've never been a fan of Mr. Friedman's work, despite my admiration for Bloody Bloody Andrew Jackson as a whole. His songs for Bloody Bloody were poorly wrought but for the most part dramatically effective. His score for Saved was unmemorable at best, clumsy at worst. Here, Friedman's songs are intermittently engaging, but not exactly indelible. (I have friends well-versed in musical theater, however, who disagree with me on this point.)

There are some fairly decent solos and chorus numbers, including "Are You a Man" for Berowne and "Not a Good Idea" for the female cast. There's a somewhat effective song about subtext, in which one character speaks out loud the internal thoughts of two other characters, although How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying handles this device far more adroitly. Too many of the numbers feel thrown in without context or purpose, including a rather quizzical song about a guy who loves cats.

My biggest peeve with Friedman is that he seems incapable of writing, or unwilling to write, a song in which he doesn't force extra syllables into every other line. He seems downright contemptuous of metric convention. One of the most enjoyable moments of the show was when the four central men perform the boy-band number "To Be With You," interpolated here for comic effect. As enjoyable as this number was, it emphasized what many of the other songs in the show were missing: appealing tunes and regular structure.

[SPOILER ALERT: I reveal the end of the show as well as a significant staging surprise in the paragraphs below.]

As director, Timbers does provide some moments of comedic inspiration in between Friedman's often cloddish songs. However, much of the fun feels grafted on through anachronistic quips and asides rather than crafted through sharp characterization or deft wordplay. One number ends with a kick line in the style of "One" from A Chorus Line, a knowing nod to the Public Theater's venerable cash cow. Cute, but hardly organic.

Late in the show, apropos of nothing I could discern, a high-school marching band descends upon the stage. I would imagine it's supposed to be this delightful surprise, but it only served to remind me that the production team didn't have many staging ideas that actually connected to what was going on in the show. At another point, one of the supporting cast members comes out dressed in a costume from Cats, possibly as a callback to the random number earlier in the show about a feline fetish. But it felt tossed in as an ineffective attempt at zany, madcap unpredictability.

By the end of the show, everything appears to be working out happily among the various pairs of lovers, until a messenger arrives to inform the princess that her father has passed away and that she must return to her kingdom at once to assume the throne. The princess and her ladies ask the boys to wait one year and come calling upon them again. It's a rather glum ending, staged rather solemnly, and it brings the momentum of the production to a grinding halt.

Yes, I'm aware that that's how the Shakespeare play ends. But My Fair Lady changes the end of Pygmalion. West Side Story has Juliet alive at the end. In musicals, faithfulness is neither necessary nor desirable. Indeed, slavish fidelity is the refuge of the artistically bereft.

August 08, 2013

I'm going to be honest. When I first heard that the new musical First Date was coming to Broadway, I was beyond dismissive. The show wasn't really on my radar prior to the announcement, despite its 2012 tryout run in Seattle at the ACT Theatre. Then suddenly it's headed to Broadway's Longacre Theatre, without the usual stop at a New York non-profit that seems to be the norm these days for musicals that don't have previously established brands (e.g. movie adaptations, songbook shows, etc.) Honestly, I was ready to write First Date off as a quick summer flop, as I'm sure were many of you.

But then I started hearing reports during previews that the show might actually be good, and from sources that I trust. Of course, that's no guarantee it won't still be a flop, but at least First Date was shaping up as something more than a doomed vanity project. So when I attended the show last weekend, I entered the Longacre with modest hopes that I might actually be entertained.

And I was. First Date is far from perfect, but it has a tremendous amount going for it, including a riotously funny book from Austin Winsberg, a reasonably tuneful and clever score by Alan Zachary and Michael Weiner, and sharp, intelligent, albeit occasionally fallible, direction from Bill Berry. The music is never less than pleasant, although occasionally there seems to be a song that's in search of a melody. The lyrics for the most part show craft, although at times they're too densely packed to be fully comprehensible. That's a liability in a show that traffics in clever. And when the show gets serious, the lyrics have an unfortunate tendency toward cliché and bromide: "Time for me to face my fears/And fight back years of uncried tears." Yeesh.

As the title implies, First Date is about a prospective couple, a man and a woman, meeting for the first time in a restaurant for drinks, food, and who knows. The male character, Aaron, played by Zachary Levi, is a bit of a clod, while Casey, played by Krysta Rodriguez, is an edgy artsy type with a taste for bad boys, which Aaron most decidedly is not. Not a very inspired setup or set of characters, but the charm here is what the authors, the production staff, and the cast do with the admittedly quotidian scenario. (The cast also features five supporting players, most notably Bryce Ryness and Kristoffer Cusick, each wonderfully protean in a variety of roles.)

The main draw here in terms of the piece itself is Winsberg's at-times ferociously funny book. But surely director Berry shares a good deal of the credit in working with his expert cast in creating this abundant levity. The comedy is especially strong when the stage business involves Zachary Levi, which thankfully is quite a bit. I don't really watch television, so I'm not familiar with Levi's work in "Chuck," but he's a natural comic, and an extremely likable and confident performer. Levi is particularly effective, both comically and dramatically, in his 11 o'clock number, "In Love With You," in which he imagines a cathartic confrontation with the ex-fiancée who quite literally left him at the altar.

First Date is especially engaging for the first 20 minutes or so, after which the authors seem less sure on their feet, at least at times. The first misstep comes during a song in which Aaron discovers that Casey isn't Jewish. What follows is a forced comic number full of unsurprising stereotypes. In general, the show works much better when it's trying to be funny. Where it often falls down is in genuine sentiment. When the show gets earnest, it also tends to get clumsy. One song about Aaron's departed mother is especially ponderous. Eventually, First Date feels like two different shows: the confident comedy and the somewhat lumbering drama. Thankfully, the show ends on a note of sincerity that brings the show together in a way that almost makes you forget the missteps along the way.

Will First Date be a hit? I've given up trying to predict such things. What I can say is that it's a strong enough show to make me eat my dismissive words about vanity projects. In fact, we should really be applauding anyone who takes such a risk in bringing an original musical to Broadway at a time when we're being bombarded by safe adaptations and jukebox shows, with apparently even more branded product on the way.

August 05, 2013

I have a confession to make: before last week, I had never seen Hello, Dolly! on stage. Oh, I had read the libretto, and listened to the cast recording countless times. And I've seen the movie version again and again. (But never in one sitting. That thing is looooong.) I know my Dolly virginity will surprise and even appall some of you out there in EIKILFM Land,but for some reason, I just never had the chance to see the show.

Let me rephrase that: I never took the chance to see the show. Lord knows there are ample opportunities to see Hello, Dolly! in local productions, but that's just the problem. I'm not a big fan of local productions, and the prospect of seeing some past-her-sell-date female performer, plucked from semi-obscurity, in what would very likely be a creaky production of an old war horse just never really piqued my interest.

Then I heard that my friends at the Goodspeed Opera House were putting on Hello, Dolly! this season with none other than Klea Blackhurst in the lead. I suddenly thought that it was time to give the stage Hello, Dolly! a chance. The Goodspeed always puts on first-rate productions, and I've been a huge fan of Blackhurst since the release of her marvelous 2001 solo album, Everything the Traffic Will Allow. The recording is from Blackhurst's cabaret show in which she pays homage to that First Lady of the American musical, Ethel Merman. (I mean, c'mon.) Blackhurst is a performer with immense charm, a strong voice, and sharp delivery, so I figured here was more than enough justification to finally take the Dolly plunge.

Fortunately, the star, the show, and the production for the most part do not disappoint. The Goodspeed Dolly is a qualified joy, due in no small part to the masterful way in which Klea Blackhurst takes charge of the stage. Her singing voice seemed a little bit fried; it wasn't clear whether she was ill or whether the role was taking its toll. But what Blackhurst lacked in vocal sustain, she more than made up for in charm and presence.

Somewhat less successful is Tony Sheldon as Horace Vandergelder. Sheldon, a Tony nominee for Priscilla, Queen of the Desert, feels out of his element in here as the blustery, stentorian Vandergelder. His physical countenace felt too slight, his delivery too tentative to do the part full justice. But the rest of the cast more than makes up for Sheldon's lack of presence, particularly Ashley Brown, who is eminently appealing and clear-voiced as Irene Malloy. (Eileen Brennan, R.I.P.) Brown's delightfully bright-eyed take on Irene had me almost wishing that I had seen her as Mary Poppins on Broadway. However, my dreadful experience seeing the London production was more than sufficient to keep me away.

The Goodspeed Dolly is directed by Daniel Goldstein (who also directed the recent Broadway revival of Godspell), and for the most part Goldstein keeps the action moving at a frothy and energetic clip, despite a few dull patches. The choreography by Kelli Barclay felt at times transportive, although there were a few numbers -- ironically enough, the number "Dancing," in particular -- that felt a bit more earthbound.

And then there's the show itself, with its lovely and varied score by Jerry Herman (with a little uncredited help from Bob Merrill), and its efficient and humorous book by Michael Stewart. One thing that struck me about the show was the use of direct address, which is absent from the movie version. Of course, this comes directly from the source, The Matchmaker by Thornton Wilder. Stewart has also maintained Wilder's farcical atmosphere and deliberately ridiculous logic, as when Ambrose tells Ermengarde that they have to win the Harmonia Gardens dance contest, because it's the only way of showing her uncle Horace that they mean business. Otherwise Ambrose and Ermengarde seem almost entirely unnecessary. It's surprising that they weren't cut entirely, as they
were in the 1958 movie version of The Matchmaker.

Hello, Dolly! certainly has its share of delightfully witty and memorable touches. One of my favorites is when the court reporter says to Cornelius, "Mr. Hackl, I
missed a few words back there. Could you start again at 'It Only...'", which leads to another chorus of "It Only Takes a Moment." The show may be somewhat corny, and may not have much in the depth department, but dammit if it doesn't know how to entertain. The title number may be a tad manufactured, but it works. In general, Dolly represents the best of the old-fashioned musicals, and it's always intrigued me that it came just one season before Fiddler on the Roof, which may have been old-fashioned in its approach, but it also pointed toward the innovative work that was to come.

The Goodspeed production of Hello, Dolly! has been extended through September 14th. Whether you're like me and haven't seen Dolly on stage before, or you've seen the show dozens of times, the Goodspeed production will likely make you wish that there were a restaurant that you could make a long-awaited return to, much to the delight of a handsome line of eager and athletic waiters. (Or maybe it's just me...)

August 01, 2013

This past month, I saw 25 musicals in 17 days. Even for me, that's a lot. Eighteen of those shows were at the New York Musical Theatre Festival (NYMF). As one might expect, many of those shows were either in need of serious revision or were probably beyond repair. It would have been easy to become discouraged about the musical form.

But, I actually had a much higher NYMF hit rate this year than last year. Out of those 18 shows, three were outstanding, albeit in need of some tweaks: Julian Po, Legacy Falls, and Crossing Swords. That's about 16%, which is quite remarkable when you think that all these shows are still under development, plus the fact that I'm pretty darned difficult to please.

We all owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to the good folks at NYMF, and NAMT, and The O'Neill, and the Goodspeed, and all the other wonderful programs out there that give new artists and works a chance to grow. If I took anything away from NYMF this year, it's that there are tons of people interested in creating and seeing new musicals. Thanks to NYMF, these two sets of people have the opportunity to come together and celebrate the art form they love.

I was one of the NYMF jurors this year, so I had to chance to weigh in on the Awards for Excellence that some of these shows received. In this, my final roundup of NYMF reviews, I make note below of where I and my distinguished fellow jurors concur, and also where we disagree.

Crossing Swords - Hands-down, the most promising show I saw at NYMF this year, Crossing Swords is a charming modern take on Cyrano de Bergerac. The book, music and lyrics are all by Joe Slabe, a fact that makes the show all the more remarkable. Crossing Swords concerns a student production of Cyrano, which Slabe uses as the backdrop of a more present-day love triangle: boy loves girl, girl loves other boy, second boy loves first boy. We also have the male and female teachers who act as chaperon and director, respectively. Slabe's characters are rich and fully realized in a way that the authors of some other NYMF shows -- Volleygirls and Gary Goldfarb in particular -- could learn from. Slabe has also crafted an accomplished score, full of charming tunes, touching moments, and ambitious counterpoint. What's more, he deftly interweaves song and dialogue, particularly effective in a song at the end of act one that brings all five characters together for a dramatically compelling finaletto.The show has a few problems: the male teacher has a back story about a fallen WWII comrade that doesn't reach fruition. The show seems to imply that the relationship was romantic, but then toward the end of the show, the male teacher responds amorously to the female teacher's kiss. There's also the continued reference to an off-stage character, Hopkins, that isn't quite satisfying. In fact, the resolution of this plot line felt a little trans-phobic, or at least trans-insensitive. Crossing Swords won NYMF awards in direction and music direction. It also won an award for its book, plus a well-deserved outstanding performance award for Steven Hauck as the male teacher. I would also have given the show best music and best ensemble, although the show did receive honorable mentions in both categories. I eagerly await the next incarnation of Crossing Swords, as well as the future work of the talented Mr. Slabe.

Volleygirls - This big winner at the NYMF awards this year was Volleygirls, picking up Best Ensemble, Most Promising New Musical, the "Best of Fest" audience favorite award, among others. The show is certainly a crowd-pleaser, but I didn't find it particularly well crafted. (Book by Rob Ackerman, music by Eli Bolin, lyrics by Sam Fromin.) The scenario is promising: an English teacher at local high school was also once an Olympic volleyball competitor. The principal calls upon her to coach the school's girls' volleyball team, which forces her to confront her embarrassing gaffe at the Olympics. The production featured the rather distracting element of having the entire cast on-stage most of the time, with cast members visibly reacting in ways that seemed inconsistent with their characters. Even more damning were two irredeemably irritating characters -- one, the mother of one of the players, and another, the daughter of the principal -- who are each painted as gross caricatures. The mom is cartoonishly evil, and the teen is insufferably belligerent. (The painfully abrasive song "I'm in Hell" had me audibly agreeing with the character.) Sure, characters can have negative traits, or even be evil, but you have to develop them in a way that's believable. And then, at the end of the show, each of the characters pulls a convenient 180 that's totally out of step with her previous development. One of the main attractions for this production was the always delightful Susan Blackwell, who, despite some evident vocal fry, does not disappoint. But then Blackwell probably just fell victim to the chief mode of communication between all of these characters: screaming, both during songs and during scenes. Clearly, I'm in a minority here, but I can't imagine enjoying any future incarnation of Volleygirls unless it undergoes some significant rewrites.

Gary Goldfarb: Master Escapist - This show picked up two NYMF awards: Best Lyrics and a distinguished performance award for lead actor, Jared Loftin. Loftin was certainly a worthy performer, but the show surrounding that performance was a gawd-awful mess. I have no idea what my fellow NYMF jurors saw in these lyrics, replete as they are with reversed syntax, poor scansion, and clumsy attempts at rhyming. (The book and lyrics are by Omri Schein, music by James Olmstead.) Gary Goldfarb concerns the plight of the eponymous Gary and his desire to do his magic act in his high-school talent show. The show clearly thinks it ought to be a laugh riot, but it isn't nearly as funny as it thinks it is. The staging featured tons of awkward comic business that simply didn't land. What's worse, Gary is encircled by an extremely unappealing cast of characters, from his harridan mother, to his rival magician, to the school pretty boy and pretty girl, all of whom actively conspire to make Gary's life miserable. Everyone tortures Gary for being fat, except the girl in the wheelchair, who has a thing for Gary. But the other characters also taunt the handicapped girl relentlessly. Yeah, shows have a right to showcase unpleasant activities, but it wasn't entirely clear to me that the authors weren't enjoying the taunting, particularly during a painfully unfunny song that Gary sings to the crippled girl, called "You'll Never Walk Over Me." (Get it? Oh, I tell you, that's a knee-slapper.) What's more, like Volleygirls, Gary Goldfarb features two characters that change on a dime at the end of the show without the slightest hint of development. Gary's mom, who has unrelentingly derided Gary for his interest in magic, is suddenly the proud Jewish mother when the talent show comes around. And the school bully has a similarly out-of-the-blue...change of team, shall we say? I can't say that I saw much in Gary Goldfarb worth salvaging.

Marry Harry - One of the benefits that NYMF affords to the writers and composers who participate is the opportunity to see their shows performed by Broadway-caliber performers. Ironically, that can also be a liability: It can be hard to determine whether material is working because it's good or whether the pros are giving it more polish than it deserves. Such was, I think, part of the problem with Marry Harry, an amiable but awkward show with book by Jennifer Robbins, music by Dan Martin, and lyrics by Michael Biello. The cast of Marry Harry featured some really strong established performers, including Philip Hoffman, Jane Summerhays, and Annie Golden, plus two really strong newer faces, Jillian Louis and Robb Sapp. Perhaps with a less accomplished cast, the authors might have had more of an opportunity to see what's wrong with the show. Marry Harry centers around a struggling family restaurant and the son who wants to leave to become a chef, not just a cook. We also have the female landlord whose daughter is about to get married, but whose fiance dumps her right before the wedding. The young man and young woman go out on a date and impulsively agree to be married. The rest of the drama hinges on the repercussions of this hasty decision. For a good portion of the show, the story works, aided by some lovely character songs. But right now, the charming aspects of the show are overshadowed by some rather unbelievable plot developments, the worst of which involves the young woman becoming jealous when a female performance artist captures herself kissing the young man on film and uses it in her act. First, the two numbers for the performance artist were woefully out of sync with the style of the rest of the show. But, more to the point, the young women now calls off the wedding, but in a way that feels completely out of character. It felt manufactured, as though act two needed a lift and this was the best the authors could come up with. Even worse was an incredibly offensive song in which a Caucasian actor plays an Asian waiter, singing about the couple in sing-song-y pidgin English. Overall, Marry Harry shows some merit, but it will likely need more prep before it's ready for public consumption.

Castle Walk - Just before my final NYMF weekend, I taught the last lesson in my summer course on the history of musical-theater dance. During the course, we not only discussed the big-name dance greats, like Jerome Robbins and Agnes de Mille, we also discuss the significant precursors and influences, such as minstrelsy and social dance. Two prominent figures in the social dance discussion were Irene and Vernon Castle, largely forgotten today, but who in their time had an enormous impact on popularizing ballroom dance, in particular their signature Castle Walk. When I heard that one of this year's NYMF shows would tell the story of the Castles, I knew I had to take it in. The show Castle Walk takes place mostly during the filming of the Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire film, The Story of Vernon and Irene Castle. Vernon has died, and Irene is serving as technical consultant for the film, but it quickly becomes clear that the studio doesn't really want her input. The drama in the show comes from the increasing tension between Irene and the film director, as she continues to object to the various liberties that the movie is taking with her story. The frustrating thing about Castle Walk is that is feels so professionally crafted, but it doesn't yet add up to a satisfying show. The book, music and lyrics, all by Milton Granger, never feel less than polished. It's just that he show isn't very exciting. Oh, it's wistful, and heartfelt, but it's also just a wee bit dull. When Irene starts schooling a group of dancers on how to do the Castle Walk, Granger gives a a mini dance-history lesson: prior to the Castles, dance was either stuffy or lewd. The Castles made it elegant and fun. Suddenly I was in, but only momentarily. The production reflected great skill in both the performances and the presentation. Lynne Wintersteller as Irene was superb, with a glorious voice and the ability to convey a great deal of character in even the slightest glance. Both Wintersteller's performance and the show's copious dance were recognized by the NYMF jurors, and rightly so. By the end of the show, I found myself wishing that Granger could find a way to breathe a little more life into his show. The subject matter is certainly compelling. What it needs is a little inspiration.